Baby Fever
by Evangeline1920
Summary: Months before her son is born, Mary has to deal with the other helpless male in her life. - Pregnant!Mary vs. Anxious!Matthew fic. - Pre-CS and in case you're wondering, it'll be AU if there is more baby fluff to come. One-shot, but I'll leave it open in case something more comes up :)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Productive week, yay! Updated 'These endless days' and threw in this little fic for good measure :) Hope you enjoy :) **

**Baby Fever**

Isobel was rather surprised when Ethel came into the parlour with the announcement that "Lady Mary Crawley." was there to see her. Her daughter-in-law had never set foot into Crawley House on her own before. Not since 1912.

What was more, Isobel immediately detected the air of unease about her, a shiftiness, as if she were on a secret mission or on the run from something...

"Why don't you sit? Ethel will bring us some tea...please." Isobel gestured towards the chaiselonge in the middle of the small parlour and nodded to her maid.

"Thank you." Mary said stiffly and sat down with only the slightest bit more effort than usual. She was in her second trimester and it was showing. Isobel thought of taking a seat next to her, but then chose the chair instead. She did not want to make Mary more uncomfortable than she already appeared to be. There was clearly a reason for her visit.

"Mary, is something the matter?" Isobel prodded gently. The young woman's dark eyes shot up and for an instant she had the distinct look of a deer caught in the lights of a motor.

"No." Mary replied automatically, then sighed. "Well...yes."

She seemed to deliberate for a moment, while Ethel came in with the tea set and a platter of Madeleines. Mary's hand automatically shot out for the pro-offered cake and Isobel smiled.

"I have this craving for cake all the time...I never used to fancy it much. But the baby seems to be mad for cake." Mary said, smiling apologetically as she devoured the french baked goods.

Ethel poured the tea for them and left. "Now, tell me what it is. Is it the baby, perhaps?" Isobel tried again. "Not directly...it's...it's your son." Mary finally came out with it.

"Oh?" Isobel was taken aback by this. Despite her misgivings about Mary many years ago, she had been convinced that her son's marriage was one of the happiest she had ever witnessed. "What happened?" Isobel asked worriedly, putting her own cup down.

"Nothing really. It's just...he's being absolutely ridiculous about this!" Mary burst out and pointed at the soft curve of her growing belly.

"He's constantly coming up with things I should or should not do...he keeps citing all these books...'Expert advice for expecting mothers' and some such nonesense...and he won't leave me alone for a single minute. I'm serious, he's _everywhere_ I go...the other day he was standing guard next to the tub while I took a bath! Poor Anna didn't know what to do!"

Mary groaned in frustration and Isobel could tell that she had not talked about her thoughts on this matter to anyone else, least of all to Matthew himself.

"All I know is he's going to drive me mad by the time the baby's here." Mary finished her rant and took another bite of cake. It seemed all she had to calm herself these days.

Isobel had listened to her outburst with a knowing smile. "Every man gets anxious when his wife is expecting." she began tentatively.

"And Matthew...well, he loves you so very much. I hope you know that, because that's the reason why he's acting like this." Isobel said this quite earnestly. Sometimes she wasn't sure if Mary was entirely aware of how important she was to Matthew. She certainly hadn't been in the past.

"I know that...of course." Mary stammered, caught off guard by her mother-in-law's candour. She blushed a little.

"But, Isobel...this is getting out of hand. And it's not good for him either. He doesn't sleep properly at night. I've made him read stories to me, not so that I can nod off, but because it puts him to sleep." Mary recounted, smiling at the memory despite her anger.

"Honestly, you should see him, how he hovers and meddles into everything...I keep wishing he'd still work in Ripon, so I'd get at least a moment's respite from it all." Mary shook her head and shifted in her seat. Pregnancy was starting to make her feel heavy and tired, and she knew it would get worse.

"Of course what happened to dear Sybil must have added to his fears and...well, Matthew can't bear to be useless. You know what he's like by now. He must have an occupation, he needs to 'do' something to help matters along. And nothing makes a man feel more helpless or redundant than pregnancy." Isobel said wisely, making Mary listen properly for the first time.

"I understand that." she conceded. "But at this rate, he's going to give himself a stroke. I went to visit Diamond in the stables the other day, just to see how he was. Matthew went berserk when he found me there. I wasn't going to ride out, just to see my horse for god's sake! He actually went red as a lobster with surpressed rage. It would have been comical if I hadn't been worried he'd have a heartattack." Mary recalled, her eyes wide with worry now.

Isobel nodded again. "Hm, there have been actual cases of husbands having heartattacks when their wives went into labour."

This did nothing to calm Mary. "Great. Just imagine what he'll be like when_ I_ go into labour...they'll come and tie him up." She quipped and looked at Isobel, whose lips were twitching.

They burst out laughing. In the end, Mary was glad she had come and vented to her mother-in-law. If nothing else, it felt good to have her grievances off her chest, so she was free to endure more of Matthew's mother-hen-behaviour.

"Mary, I understand you completely and I will talk to Matthew." Isobel concluded at last. "No!" Mary gasped quite forcefully. "Don't do that. He mustn't think that he's done badly." She looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap.

"He's trying so hard...and it would hurt him to think that he's been the opposite of helpful. As you said...he only wants to help." Mary said with finality.

Isobel didn't know what to say. Mary Crawley had surprised her before with her care and devotion to Matthew, when she had seen her nurse him in hospital. Now she felt the same tender bond with the young woman who put Matthew's feelings over her own needs.

"Then perhaps _you_ should talk to him about this. Tell him that you appreciate his care, but that he's overdoing it a little...or...a lot." Isobel advised her.

"Maybe I will." Mary said after a while. "He's so good, you know. And he's so excited about this..." She stroked a hand over her bump.

Somehow, all her anger had dissipated and she was instead overwhelmed with gratitude for the way Matthew cared, for the fierceness with which he wanted to protect her and baby. If only she could reassure him that he need not be so very anxious.

"I will." she decided then. Isobel smiled broadly. "Good." she picked up the platter and held it out to her daughter-in-law. „Have another cake." Mary smiled and took another Madeleine.

"Matthew had been _such_ a fat baby." Isobel said out of nowhere, causing Mary to choke and cough on her bite of cake for laughter.

"He was! I can show you a picture." the proud mother got up to find the old picture album.

Mary didn't know whether to laugh or to cry when she beheld the old black-and-white photograph of a chubby baby boy with a tuft of light hair on his round head and the extremely blue eyes that were unmistakably Matthew's.

Again, her hand wandered to the place where their own baby was nestled and she wondered whether it would look like its father. Seeing the jolly round infant in the picture, she dearly hoped so.

"Thank you." she said at last as she handed it back to Isobel.

The clock on the mantle piece chimed. "Oh dear. I better head back or he'll organise a search party for me. He's good at that." Mary said rather darkly. Isobel helped her up from the chaiselongue.

"Tell him when he's going too far. He won't thank you for being dishonest either." The elder woman told her again and Mary agreed. They walked to the door.

"Yes, I better put a stop to it now. Who knows what he'll think of next." Mary abruptly halted in her step and turned around to look Isobel straight in the eyes. Her gaze was fierce and spoke of something truly traumatic...

"Two days ago, he was hovering in front of the lavatory door while I...relieved myself and he kept _asking_ if everything was alright. Anna had to chase him away and I told him if he ever tried that again, I'd get a divorce!" She paused dramatically. "He hasn't done it again."

Mary had spoken quickly and took a deep breath before she turned to leave, never waiting for a response to her woeful tale.

Isobel bit her lip and tried to keep a straight face. "Talk to him." she repeated, her lips still twitching.

Perhaps she ought to have a little talk with her son after all...

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**Thanks for reading, reviews would be lovely! I might write more baby fic in the future (AU *cough* CS never happened *cough*) but not sure yet...we shall see ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: Hello there dear readers! Thanks so much for the lovely reviews! So much insight and so inspiring...so I picked up some of your suggestions and went with it. I hope this is what you had in mind ;) Here comes the real baby fluff...enjoy!

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Anna sat idly in the servant's hall, enjoying a cup of tea and a cooking book, which she had borrowed from Mrs. Patmore. She intended to cook for herself and John in the future, but still lacked some of the skill. Lady Mary had been out to visit Mrs. Crawley for the afternoon, so Anna could relax for a few hours. Being a Lady's maid to her friend was as wonderful a job as it was exhausting these days.

Lady Mary had made it Anna's new main chore to be on the look out for Mr. Crawley, to _'see if the coast is clear'_ whenever her Ladyship wanted to do something that her husband deemed '_risky_' or '_dangerous_' or simply _'out of the question'_. The list of which was long and seemed to be getting longer with every passing day or new concern that popped into the young lawyer's head.

Apparently, there were traps and dangers around every corner in and out of this house: Discarded soaps...the wrong food...drafty rooms and corridors...everything about the staircases...the persian carpets that one could stumble over...the horse's stables, the dog and the cat...driving in the car... taking a bath...using the lavatory...the list of absurdities was sheer endless.

Anna smiled and wondered if John would be as ridiculous when it was their time to start a family. Mr. Crawley's protectiveness had been rather sweet and touching in the beginning, but Anna knew that Lady Mary's patience was wearing thin. It was only a matter of time when things would come to a head...

"Anna, what are you doing down here? Where is Lady Mary?" Carson had burst into the hall, sounding slightly out of breath. Anna put her book on the table and stood. "Oh, she's gone over to see Mrs. Crawley in the village. I asked whether I should come, but she said no." the maid added quickly, feeling a bit defensive at the butler's accusatory tone.

"Is she down there?" A voice, which was rarely if ever heard downstairs, came from the staircase. He sounded anxious. "No, she isn't, Mr. Crawley. Anna says she's gone to Crawley House." Carson hurried to the stairs with the information.

_Escaped_ to Crawley House more like, Anna thought and shook her head. At that moment, the bell to the main door rang and Carson hurried upstairs with the nervous man following in his wake...

"My darling, why didn't you tell me you were going to visit Mother? I'd have come with you!" Matthew greeted his wife as she walked through the entrance hall. He'd been searching the house for her when he came back after a trip to inspect the grounds with Robert and Tom, which Mary had convenenietly pushed on him.

"Oh...it was a quick decision. And it was very nice. Your mother sends her love." Mary said calmly while she shed her gloves and hat. She smiled as Matthew bent down to kiss her lovingly on the cheek, his hands covering her belly at once. "Are you feeling alright? Wasn't it taxing, all the way to the village and back?" he asked then, inspecting her earnestly.

Mary fought the urge to roll her eyes and get angry, as she usually did at this point. "No, not at all. On the contrary, I feel much better now." she replied enigmatically. Matthew smiled in relief. "Good."

"Would you like some tea, Milady. Anna will attend to you immediately..." Carson said, standing a few feet away from them. Mary shook her head. "That won't be necessary, Carson. And I've had enough tea at Isobel's." she decided.

"Well, come and rest a little in the library." Matthew urged as he guided her through the adjecent door. Carson followed at a respectable distance. "Are you _sure_, Milady, that you don't need anything?" the old butler tried once more as he watched Mary being made to sit down on the large red sofa. Mary shook her head again. "No, really, Carson. I'm quite happy."

She saw Matthew and Carson exchange a knowing glance and this time Mary did roll her eyes in plain annoyance.

Mary knew they were sticking together in this, as if they had made some silent pact to drive her mad with all their meddling...a big male conspiracy, including all the men in this house, from her husband to her father, her brother-in-law down to the butler. _Her_ loyal butler. All of them were fretting and fussing over her as if she were a baby herself!

Of course she knew why they did it, so she couldn't blame them. Isobel's words came back to her mind.

_Nothing makes men feel more helpless or redundant than pregnancy._

She remembered how helpless they had all been when Sybil...the mere thought of her darling sister was too painful, especially at this time, because the last conversations she actually had with her were all about pregnancy and babies...

"Darling, are you alright? What is it? Are you in pain? Tell me...please!" Matthew plead frantically, his eyes wide with panic. He grasped her hand and she squeezed it tightly for a second. "I just thought of Sybil, that's all." Mary confessed once she had composed herself.

Matthew's gaze turned miserable. He did not like being reminded of Sybil...at least not now, because it made him even more anxious than he already felt. "I won't _let _anything like it happen to you. I won't allow it." he whispered fiercely, as much to himself as to her. Mary smiled indulgently at his stubborn conviction and raised her hand to stroke an unruly lock of blonde hair out of his forehead. He closed his eyes briefly to enjoy her gentle touch.

"Darling, you can't change fate. You can't prevent things from happening. We can be careful, yes, but we can not say for certain what will come...and you can not protect me from every tiny thing in this world. That's impossible." She whispered, then leaned forwards to press a soft kiss to his nose.

"I know you only try to do what's best for me..." Mary took his hand in hers and guided it to her bump. "...and for our darling." He stroked his hand lovingly over the round belly and nodded, still looking rather stricken. "But Matthew, perhaps you don't need to be quite so...so..." She hesitated, having spotted the flash of hurt in his bright blue eyes.

No, she couldn't say it. Not when he was trying so hard to please her...

"So...what?" he prompted her, his fair eyebrows contracting slightly. But she remained silent.

"I promised that I wouldn't follow you to the lavatory again...and I didn't." Matthew pointed out. "And I've stopped reading those advice books." he added, though more quietly. They both knew it was a bit of a lie. He was still reading them, only not to her face. She had thrown 'Expert advice for expecting mothers' out of the window the other day, so he had resolved to keep them for his own perusal.

"Yes, you've shown real restraint, my darling." Mary laughed indulgently, her hand was softly caressing his earlobe, she knew how he loved that and it calmed him down. Like calming an over-excited puppy. "Now tell me about your day with Papa and Tom...where were you?" she inquired at last, dropping the topic entirely.

No need to spoil for a fight or to agitate him further, she reasoned. Even if it meant five more months of being mothered and smothered into madness. She sighed heavily and leaned into chest while he told her about the new crop rotation scheme Tom had come up with.

It was easy to forget how annoying Matthew could be when they were together like this and his gentle voice lulled her in, when his hands caressed her tummy protectively and his lips were lovingly pressed to her rosy cheek ever so often...

...yes indeed, it was frustratingly difficult to stay mad at Matthew Crawley for any length of time.


	3. Chapter 3

Scotland, September 1921

It was one of _those_ nights.

Neverminding the eventful day and the exhaustion of travelling, Matthew found no sleep. When he had last checked the clock on the opposite wall of their guest bedroom in Duneagle, it had been a quater past two in the morning.

He was laying on his side and watched his sleeping wife. His hand was still resting on her protruding belly, where he had caressed it until she fell asleep. There was a soft smile playing around her lips, even in repose. He remembered how she had laughed a few hours before, when he had read _The Wind in the Willows_ to her.

For some reason she'd started giggling when he came to the part about 'Toad of Toad Hall', and mumbled something about Edith and Granny, but wouldn't specify when asked about it. And he had been far too distracted by the beautiful sight of her laughing face to really care what it was that made her connect Edith with a toad.

All things considered, he was still not happy with their decision to come to Duneagle Castle at all, but he had promised Mary, after a major row last month, that he would try his best to calm down for her sake. It had been their first fight in a long time and he'd been quite shaken by it...

"_...no, Matthew! For the last time no! I will not have the baby born in London and that's the last thing I will say on this!" Mary cried in exasperation and held her belly. "And what if something goes wrong? What then?" he had shouted, "St. Thomas's has all the newest equipment, the best doctors...and Dr. Clarkson has agreed to come down to London for it! Why on earth would you refuse to be safe?" He splutterd, breathing heavily, with one hand clasping his stomach in a curious reflexion of Mary's current pose. He felt queasy. "Because I won't have my baby born outside of Downton. The hospital here is fine, it's clean and Dr. Clarkson will know what to do...better than any of your so-called experts!" she argued, panting with anger. _

_She took a deep breath. "Matthew, you're driving me insane! With your worries and your safety measures and your constant meddling...into every tiny detail of my life! This is still my life and my baby and I will know what's best for us! And you...you are just making a mess of everything!" There, she had said it at last. A shocked silence fell over them. The moment she gazed up at his face, she felt sorry. He looked absolutely crest-fallen. His shoulders had slumped and for an instant she thought she could see his face crumple. They stared at each other for over a minute. _

_"I see." he croaked, his throat rather dry. "If you feel this way, I won't...meddle into your life anymore...of course. I don't want to...mess it up." He wasn't angry, or even put out. Just terribly hurt and sad. Without warning, he turned to leave their bedroom, his head bowed. __"Matthew, wait! Please!" she called out to him, waddling over to where he stood facing the door. "I'm sorry...but...you're taking over everything. Every decision, every...little thing that I want to do...you just complicate it..." She spoke softly now, addressing the back of his head. His hand let go of the doorknob and he turned to her. "I love you so much...and I'm scared." he whispered. It was as simple as that. He hadn't meant to take over her life and 'mess it up'. He was only a man who was afraid of losing what was most dear to him..._

_Mary walked over to him, took his hand and pulled him to their bed. He sat down and held her tight when she perched rather awkwardly on his knees. For a moment, his lips quirked and he was tempted to make a joke about her newly gained weight breaking his legs, but he thought better of it. "I know." she whispered then and took his cheeks in her hands to kiss away the mournful expression on his face. By the time she pulled back, his pout had turned into a genuine smile. _"_I'll be alright...we'll be alright." Mary whispered earnestly. _

_Matthew frowned again. "Promise?" he demanded__ and for a moment he looked to her like a petulant little boy who was promised a pony and didn't quite believe he would get it. "I promise...but only if you promise to calm down." Mary replied tersely, her thumbs caressing his burning ears. He was still so agitated. "I'll try." he said at last, his eyes shining up at hers. "So will I. It's all we can do, Matthew. Try and hope for the best." she said wisely, then proceeded to kiss her way down from his cheek to his chin, down to his neck. "My darling..." he gasped as he let himself fall backwards on the bed, pulling her down with him..._

Matthew smiled wistfully into the dark. Their making-up had definitely been worth the argument. A week later, he had also received a surprise visit from his mother for a 'little talk', which to Matthew had felt more like a proper scolding. He had actually argued back and pointed out to his mother that there were certain parallels between his conduct and _her_ general behaviour. She, too, liked to be in control of situations, especially when she wanted to be _helpful_. Isobel had been stunned, but Matthew nevertheless came to the conclusion that his anxiety may do more harm than good to Mary and the baby. When he'd apologized to his wife and tried to explain why exactly he was so terribly scared, it had been rather difficult...

The truth was that those four years in the trenches had taught Matthew more than enough about _fear_. In fact, it had taught him well how to handle this primal, most basic emotion. By 1916 he had managed to come up with a method to surpress most of his fears, which enabled him to function even in the worst hell of the trenches...or else, he was sure, he'd have been rendered completely mad long before 1918.

Whenever terror and anxiety threatened to overwhelm him, he'd simply focussed, really intensely focussed on those things that he loved most in the world. Those things that remained untouched by the horrors of the war, the things that he fought for and that still gave some sense to all this carnage. Otherwise there would have been no sense in any of it at all...

He'd thought of his home and of his mother there. Of dear Lavinia waiting for him in London...but most of all, especially when he was _really_ afraid, he had thought of Mary...

Always and last of Mary. He'd see her face, sometimes with Downton in the background. And he'd hold onto that image for dear life...her beautiful features, the tender look in her dark eyes when he'd last seen her, the brief pressure of her lips on his cheek...and "_Such good luck"_.

And of course he'd always kept a piece of her on him. The little toy dog that she'd put into his hand, a love token really, like a princess would have given to her favourite knight to keep him safe from harm...

It had worked every time. He'd felt instantly calmed, collected, able to function and lead his men, even if everything else fell to pieces around them. Yes, it had been fail-safe...

...until now.

Because unfortunately this neat little trick did not translate well into warding off anxiety attacks that were actually _related_ to Mary. When he was afraid for her safety and then tried to focus on how much he loved her...well, his fears just doubled and re-doubled. A vicious circle, really.

Matthew sighed heavily into the quiet darkness and edged a little closer to his slumbering darling, careful that his clumsy movements wouldn't wake her. For some reason she always got inexplicably upset when she caught him awake while she had been sleeping.

He flexed his fingers on her belly and stared at the large curve, dipped in moonlight.

Baby was in there. _Their_ very own baby. That tiny, unborn life that was nestled safely inside Mary's body.

Sometimes, the very idea that he and Mary had actually _made_ a this, together, was more than his mind could comprehend. It was almost surreal. The knowledge that the consummation of their love had created life, a new life on earth, was simply beyond him. It was almost too good to be true. And yet, it _was_ real...

Mary and him had become one flesh, in every sense of the word...it was so overwhelming...so wondrous...

"Hmm?" Mary woke up. "What's wrong?" she mewled, dragging her eyes open to fix him with a slightly disgruntled gaze. "You made an odd sound." she complained languidly, while at the same time her arms pulled him closer.

He was silent and helplessly dropped his head onto her chest, where he could hear the steady and calm rythm of her heartbeat. The baby must hear exactly the same, he thought, and somehow the idea pleased him a lot.

"Sleep." Mary ordered gently, letting her fingers slowly rake through his tousled hair. She lovingly scratched his scalp in soothing circles. Soon, she could hear her husband's quiet snores and smiled, satisfied with her work.

Her poor darling. He was making _such_ an effort these days. And she knew how unhappy he was that they had gone on this trip north, so shortly before the expected birth. They didn't need to stay long, however, perhaps they'd even leave before the others. Just to be safe. He'd like that, surely. Mary grimaced in the dark...

Yes, she decided, perhaps they ought to go home tomorrow...just to be safe...and _together._

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**A/N**: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews to the last chapters. I didn't think my little slice of baby fluff would be received so well :) I'd originally planned to leave it at this, but then it may be mistaken for canon and I can't bear that...because in my version, Mary would not have left Matthew in Scotland and Matthew would not have let her go home on her own in her condition (JF, really?) Either way, we'll see if I go on with this, but for now, just rest assured that in this story there will be no 'incident' and they'll be, as Mary terms it: 'safe...and together'

Thanks for reading, hope you liked poor Matthew's view on things. And reviews are as always the sugar in my tea :)


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Having far too much fun writing this story, hence the speedy updates, whoo! Thanks again to all those who reviewed and favourited! So happy this story is well received! And now, we're actually moving into AU territory...enjoy!**

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Mary felt surprisingly good the next morning, so it did not strike her as necessary that they should depart straight away. Matthew was invited to go deer stalking with the men, while the Ladies were to meet them for a picnic in the glen. In light of this, Mary also deemed it a nice idea to have a little word with Edith about her new beau, away from prying eyes.

So it was decided that the sisters would take a car up to the picnic together. Unsurprisingly, Matthew was rather sceptical.

"I can drive very well, you know." Edith assured him. She was not very keen on being alone with Mary, but the prospect of driving a car again was rather tempting. "It's not far and we'll drive very slowly. There's no traffic up here as it is." Mary argued. In the end, Matthew was forced to relent. He really had no other choice if he didn't want to fight with Mary again.

"To be honest, darling, I'm quite ready for us to go home after this outing." She baited him. "You are?" he was surprised. "There's nothing wrong, is there?" Mary was quite proud of his attempt to mask his panic. She could almost buy it. "No, darling. Everything is just perfect. And we'll see you later. Tomorrow, you and I can take the train back to Downton...if it makes you feel better." She smiled and kissed him quickly on the lips.

Matthew nodded, glad to hear it. Tomorrow, they would go home and everything would be as it should. He was still slightly uneasy about leaving her with Edith, but they would meet again in a few hours.

Deer stalking afforded patience and a relaxed attitude, two things that he was sadly lacking these days. However, the prospect of ending this risky little vacation prematurely did make him feel better than he had felt since their arrival.

Edith eyed her sister suspiciously when they took their seats in the car. There must be some hidden agenda on Mary's mind, why else would she wish to spend time with her...

"I don't know what you mean..." Mary said innocently as they drove off. They were silent for a few miles, which was nothing unusal. Sybil had always been the social lubricant between them, without her it was rather more difficult to make polite conversation.

"It's beautiful here, isn't it?" Edith commented awkwardly as she sped them through the breathtaking hills of the Scottish highlands. Mary nodded. "Yes." She held her belly. Actually...something wasn't entirely right. She couldn't point her finger at it exactly...she just felt odd. It wasn't so much painful as it was a feeling as if the baby moved more than usual. Since there was nothing really unsual about that, she tried to ignore it.

"Edith?" Mary turned towards her sister in the driving seat, her eyes raking over the young woman, so smartly dressed and modern-looking these days. "Yes?" came the mildly exasperated reply. "Are you quite sure you know what you're getting yourself into?"

Edith rolled her eyes, an unconscious imitation of her sister. "I knew this would come up. Can we please not, Mary? Not now." she frowned, staring at the road ahead. They had to drive through a patch of forest and Edith didn't like the look of the stubbly path. The other two cars with the Ladies had driven ahead and managed quite well on the forest grounds, though they had lost track of them a while ago. Edith shifted gear.

"Alright. I just don't want you to make any mistakes." Mary said, sounding more haughty than she meant to. "Oh I see, because _you_ haven't made any mistakes in your life, have you? No, Lady Mary Crawley has always acted with perfect propriety...a picture of female perfection." Edith sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Mary sighed. She had hoped that after Sybil's death, Edith might be a little less thorny.

"Suit yourself. Just don't blame me if you end up ruined and alone." Mary spat, looking towards the other side. The dark depth of the forest around them made her a little uneasy. And the baby was getting more restless. Now, she actually did start to feel repeated stabs of pain. Dull...but mounting.

Without warning, the car screeched to a halt in the middle of the forest path. Mary had to brace her arms not to fly forwards through the front window. "Are you crazy?" she panted, clutching her belly tighter. But Edith had already left the car without a word. Mary stared after her.

She opened her own door and took a deep breath. The ache had stopped, which was a good sign. "Edith, wait!" she called after her sister and followed her a little way off the path. Edith shook her head, her back turned to Mary.

"How dare you...how dare _you_ of all people tell me off about ruining myself...when you've nearly ruined this family?" Edith shrieked as she whipped around, tears in her eyes. She took in the image of her eldest sister, standing there in her green costume, her impossibly beautiful face glowing even in the low lighting of the forest and her hands resting on her round swollen belly...a beautiful diamond engagement ring and a wedding band glittering on the slender left hand.

Edith felt sickened. "Why can't you be happy for me? Why can't you _let_ me be happy?" she exploded. "Why can't you be on my side?"

Mary blinked, completely taken aback. For a moment she had a vision of darling Sybil standing in her bedroom, looking at her accusingly with the same questions on her lips, regarding Tom. Mary quickly looked away.

"That's not...Edith, I'm just trying to keep you from...being disappointed again." Mary said then. "I don't want you to run into another trap...and believe me, I know what it's like to choose the _wrong_ man. And how unforgiving people can be about it...or any bad move that you make!" She had worked herself up into a temper to match her sister's.

"Oh that's very convenient, isn't it? To prostrate yourself now as if you _cared_...you never used to care about what I did, as long as you were better off than me!" Edith's face was deep red with anger, tears coming down her cheeks, smudging the eye-make up she had recently taken to apply. "You cared about Sybil, you always did...but did you even notice when _I_ was upset?"

Mary stared at her aghast. „And you complain that Matthew meddles into everything...but you think _you _can meddle into everyone else's life!" Edith gave a harsh laugh. "Poor Matthew, he can never do right by you, either. He'd have been a lot better off if..." Edith hesitated, seeing Mary's eyes grow wide.

"If...what?" Mary pressed out between her teeth.

"If he'd married Lavinia. And you had better stay with Carlisle...he suited you, know know. Just as cold and callous as you are. I think you were truly deserving of each other. And he didn't seem to mind _what_ you were... " Edith cried, her eyes full of disdain.

"Well, perhaps the same could be said about Anthony Strallan." Mary snapped back automatically. "Maybe he ditched you, because he'd started to see what _you_ are..."

She immediately regretted this low blow, but Edith's words had cut her so deeply that she could not seem to hold back. Her emotions were suddenly running rampant and the baby grew more agitated.

Without another word, Mary rushed past her sister, waddling as best as she could through a line of trees. She had to calm down. If she so much as looked at Edith now, she would say something absolutely unforgivable...

She trudged angrily, until she came to a clearing a little way down the path. There was a small stream and the sun partly broke through the thick tall trees. It was a pleasant enough sight to calm her down. She leaned heavily against a tree and took a few deep breaths.

If only she had gone back home with Matthew this morning...and listened to him about talking to Edith. What had she been thinking? Bracing herself, Mary turned to walk back to where the path was. Suddenly, she could hear an engine roar in the distance and wheels screeching on the dry grounds.

_No. It could not be..._

But it was. When she had reached the path again, there was no car. No Edith. Just the faint smell of gasoline and the chirping of the forest birds.

She was alone.

But surely, Edith would come back, Mary reasoned. She had only driven off in anger and would certainly compose herself and come back...wouldn't she?

Mary shivered in the cool air. She was weary and cold and her feet ached terribly. But she stood her ground, certain that her sister could not possibly be so vindictive as to leave a pregnant woman alone in a forest. The dull ache in her back started again.

After half an hour, Mary returned to the clearing. She was furious with Edith and deeply hurt. They were not fond of each other, no, but to think that Edith would hate her so much as to let her rot in the middle of nowhere...

Tears stung in her eyes, but she bit them back. No. This was not the time to cry, nor to panic. It was alright. Matthew would come and find her. _Someone_ would. Forget about Edith, she didn't need _her_ to come back. She would just wait here and stay calm.

In the end, Mary was glad to have found the stream. As parched as she was, the clear cool water was like balm to her dry throat. Fortunately, baby had also stopped making a fuss and she felt confident that she would be alright. After washing her hands and face, Mary put her gloves and hat back on.

There now. She felt restored and civilised again, and even if she had to walk down the forest path all by herself she would do so. Edith had better go and hide somewhere...

"We can do it, can't we?" she addressed her belly as she turned to leave. "We don't need anyone's help on our way out. Just you and I." she caressed it with a confident smile. Baby squirmed in assent.

A second later, she felt something warm running down her legs.

In panic, Mary lifted her skirt, fearful of seeing blood. But the fluid was almost clear. What had Isobel called it again? The 'breaking of water' or something. Mary pulled a face, cursing her own stupidity. Now she knew what those dull pains had been.

And this could only mean one thing...

_Oh God._

* * *

**Really sorry for the cliffhanger (or not :P) **

**I'm sure you can guess where this is heading. ****Only question is, how much will Edith regret her decision, how badly will Matthew flip and how on earth is Mary going to get out of that one...we shall see!**

**Thanks for reading! Reviews would be lovely :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Baby alarm! Apologies to those who wanted me to write the birth to be at home! It would have been lovely, but this idea just sort of ran away with me, sorry! Hope you can still enjoy it! And no worries, there will be some more fluff at Downton, promise ;) For now, just thanks a mill for all the lovely reviews! You guys make this story all the more fun to write :)**

* * *

The herd was grazing right in front of their rifles. Shrimpy had pointed out one particularly fat deer for them to fix on. It seemed just close enough and not very healthy. "Very quiet now. Don't move...in fact, don't even breathe." The Marquess of Flintshire hissed into Matthew's ear rather viciously.

Matthew had been fidgeting all morning. It was a miracle they had got as far as they had with their stalking, with such a nervous wreck in the midst. Shrimpy shook his head disapprovingly.

"I'm determined to get that one..." he whispered. „Quiet now."

Alas, it was not to be his day. Without warning, the young Mr. Crawley had jumped up from his crouching position with an almighty wheeze as if he had something stuck in his airpipe. His face had taken on a greyish hue. The herd of deer had of course caught sight of this sudden movement and immediately dispersed.

Shrimpy cursed.

"Matthew? Are you alright?" Robert asked worriedly. Though he was disappointed about the failed hunt, he'd rather disrupt it than have his heir suffer a heartattack. Mary had warned of something like this happening sooner or later with Matthew's constant agitation about the baby.

"No...yes. It's just...I don't really know." Matthew wiped his forehead. It was slick with cold perspiration. As was his back. He shivered, even in his thick sports attire. Something wasn't right...

_Mary. _

„I'd rather go." he mumbled, already shouldering his rifle to leave the hillside. Shrimpy huffed. "Oh we'll all go. It's all for naught now anyways. The deer will know our faces by now." he said gruffly, though he smiled at last.

You simply had to indulge a father-to-be...they are the most pitiable creatures.

* * *

"Well...here's a thought...we'll both just stay where we are." Mary panted at her belly, leaning against the large tree where she had cowered for the past twenty minutes. Part of her was still hoping that Edith would have a heart and return. "You stay in there...and I'll just stay...here." She cast a look around at the green hell she had been left in.

Nothing but trees and undergrowth wherever she turned.

Maybe she ought to try and get back to the road path. The labour pains were coming faster now and more forceful. Moving around much was becoming almost impossible. Everything about this situation was simply impossible!

Another wave of pain rolled over her, taking her breath away. She had to pant and remember to take in air at regular intervals. Wasn't that what they'd told her sister to do...dear sweet Sybil.

But this wasn't how it had been for Sybil at all and Mary didn't know whether to take it as a good sign or a bad one. Her legs finally gave way and she sank to the green mossy floor under the tree.

Sybil's labour had announced itself for days and there had been so many false alarms. Perhaps this was what happened to her now: a false alarm. The baby could not come out so quickly. Surely not.

„Listen now...we'll be alright. If you just wait a bit. Alright? Just stay put and don't try to...Oh _God_!"

She cried out, bending over and grasping the damp earth underneath her for dear life, until the pain subsided.

Well this proves it, Mary thought grimly, this child has inherited its father's stubborness and terrible timing...

* * *

Edith was hysterical by the time she reached the rest of the party. Shortly after driving off, she'd realized what she had done and meant to turn around, but somehow, finding the exact path where she had left her sister became an impossible task.

It was true, she was a good driver, albeit rather poorly when it came to orientation skills. In fact, she was lucky to have found her way out of this accursed forest at all. Then how would Mary...

_Oh God, what had she done? _

The only thing she could think of doing was to find the others and tell them. Of course, she might have to tell a little lie to explain how exactly she had 'lost' Mary. Otherwise her brother-in-law would strangle her for certain. She shuddered at the thought of Matthew's reaction...

* * *

"I'll kill Edith...I'll kill her..." Mary hissed between clenched teeth. However, the thought of her sister's resentful deed was more hurtful than soothing, so she tried to forget about it. The only person she wanted to have around right now wasn't her sister anyways.

Matthew...where on earth was he when she _actually_ needed him.

"Months and months of hovering...", she pressed out furiously, "...every day...going on my last nerve..." Another wave of pain shook her. "...and now..." she cried out as she reclined against the hard bark of the old gnarly oak. It was less than comfortable, but better than laying all the way in the dirt.

She looked up at the tree tops. The singing of the birds annoyed her. Almost as if they mocked the awful sounds that escaped her own throat...

* * *

They had jumped into the motors without a second to spare. Cora wanted to accompany them, but Robert had declined, asking her to take care of his mother. They had never seen Violet turn so pale before, as when Edith came stumbling towards them with her awful news.

Matthew had almost driven off all by himself, but they had managed to restrain him with two men.

"Now keep your head, for God's sake. We'll find her." Robert had admonished him, though his own panic was reflected in Matthew's wide blue eyes. By God, he himself would not be able to go through this again...not after Sybil.

Edith was supposed to tell them the way. Unfortunately, in her hysterical state, she was not much use to anyone. So they decided to simply drive down the path they had come. Mary and Edith could not have diverted too far from the designated route.

Once they arrived in the woods, Robert checked his pocket watch. "It's now...half past one. Plenty of time before it starts to get dark."

Next to him Matthew made an odd sound and covered his mouth. For a moment it looked as if he was about to be sick. Edith took a step behind Shrimpy, out of Matthew's field of vision.

* * *

The contractions were coming in regular bursts now. And somehow, Mary had finally resigned herself to fate. If it happened, it happened. Wasn't that what she had told Matthew all this time. She could not change fate. If baby chose this moment to present itself to the world, there was precious little she could do to prevent it.

She had changed positions instinctively, kneeling now rather than sitting. Initially, she had even began to crawled on all-fours, but there was enough of a 'Lady' left in her to simply refuse to give birth like an animal. At least for now.

Mary wiped at her face, hating the tears that never seemed to cease. She couldn't remember ever crying as much as she did now. And apart from the intense pains that wrecked her every few minutes, she also felt changed in other ways.

Everything was more...intense. Every one of her senses seemed...sharpened.

Her ears and eyes were suddenly attuned to the smallest movements in the forest. Her nostrils flared as she took in the scent of the fresh pine trees, the damp moss and dark earth underneath her.

Most of all, she could smell the faint scent of her own perspiration. And suddenly she realized that she was part of it all. What was happening to her now, it truly made her a part of this. She blinked wearily up at the dark green ceiling over her. _Nature_.

And yet, she still felt like a part of her was missing. A most vital part. In fact, she felt like _half _of her was missing.

"Matthew!" she called, her surprisingly strong voice carrying over the plain of the clearing, though she knew he would not be able to hear it. No matter, Mary thought, as she stubbornly called for her husband, wherever he may be now...

* * *

"Come on." Robert pulled his arm. "We need to get more men. Matthew, we're wasting bloody time."

But Matthew refused to get into the car again. They had tried to comb the woods with only five men, which was akin to searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Shrimpy had suggested they quickly drive down to the estate and gather up all the men there, as well as those from the village. And they had to do so quickly, before they lost the light.

"No." Matthew snapped. He angrily wiped at his eyes and took a step back from Robert. "You go, fetch the men, I'll keep looking." he growled and disappeared into the forest before anyone could hold him. "You can't go alone...Matthew!" Robert called after him, but he didn't turn around.

They didn't undestand, Matthew thought miserably, as he stalked through the thick coppice. They had no clue! If anything..._anything_ happened to Mary...he would...

He gulped and walked faster, surpressing the horrible image. Let them get more men, he would find her on his own...and if he got mauled by a bear in the process, then so be it.

"Mary!" he called, swallowing back the unmanly tears that repeatedly stung him. He thought of her words, how she had promised him that she would be alright. And he tried his best to remember _what_ she was...

His Mary was strong. So strong. She was his storm-braver after all.

* * *

Mary felt terribly weak. The contractions were coming almost every minute now. She couldn't take it anymore. Her knees had began to hurt so much that she was forced to lean back again, even if this made the whole ordeal even more uncomfortable.

Perhaps she would die now. Perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing...

The moment this stupid thought had crossed her mind, she frowned at herself. What had become of her? After everything that she had seen and done in the last decade? And now that their life, hers and Matthew's, was just about to begin...

_Oh Matthew..._

She could almost see his face in front of her, the tender expression in his beautiful blue eyes, the way he would smirk with one corner of his mouth turned up. Yes, she could almost fancy that she saw him right in front of her.

...only that, if she looked closer, his expression was more wild than tender and his mouth was moving frantically:

"Oh God Mary! I'm here...I'm here, my darling...it's alright...I'm here now...I'll get you home, darling..."

Matthew was nearly hyperventilating. He had been mad with joy the moment he'd spotted her in that clearing. Running towards her, he'd skidded to a halt in the mud and kissed her hand fiercely, then tried to help her up.

"Matthew...stop it...can't you see...I'm _pressing out your child_?" she hissed angrily, though her eyes filled with tears and her hand pressed his in silent gratitude.

He was here. The other half of herself...and the third party was clearly on its way.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello again! This chapter took a bit longer, but I had to do a spot of research for it, as you shall see :) Baby's coming! As always big big thanks to all who reviewed this story! Still dazzled that people are reading it! We've got one, perhaps two more chapters to go. But for now, enjoy the madness of this one ;) **

* * *

The sight and the sounds of Mary's suffering was worse than he could have imagined. Maybe that was the reason why husbands are supposed to patiently wait downstairs and glugg entire pints of whiskey to calm their nerves. It was simply too painful to watch the woman you love go through this...

"Mary." he kept kept saying her name, which he could tell unnerved her. "Don't be afraid. They're going to be here soon."

Matthew swallowed hard. By God, he would wring all their necks if they didn't hurry and find them quickly. "We'll bring you to a hospital nearby and all will be well...all's well, my darling..." his voice broke slightly and her hand was crushing his.

"No...no...it's coming now, Matthew. There isn't time for...hospitals." Mary panted before another torturous wave hit. She clenched her teeth and rocked forwards. No, it most definitely won't be long now.

If only she had enough strength. She was so tired..so incredibly tired. What if she just leaned back against Matthew and slept for a little while...

"Mary, open your eyes...please, darling...don't do that...you're scaring me!" Mary could hear his frantic pleas. A moment later, she was shaken awake and when she opened her eyes to glare at her panicked husband, his demeanour had changed completely.

She had known that he would flip out when the time came. All told, she would hardly have been surprised to see him faint on top of her, given his nervous condition for the past six months.

But she was very much surprised at the look in his eyes now. It was fierce. There was love and admiration for what she had endured...but mostly there was absolute determination. His jaw was set, his lips a tight line, his brows drawn together in a impressive scowl. Something was brewing inside him, she could tell.

Mary would have laughed if she wasn't shaken by another contraction. Oh God, she was done for. All her powers were being sapped by these horrid labour pains and she knew that she would have to push harder to get the baby out. It just felt...undoable.

"Alright Mary, we can do this. Together. I don't know how, but we'll get through this." Matthew burst out, as he wiped a handkerchief over her brow. "I'll help you. I..I won't let anything happen to you, my darling." Though he was clearly still terrified, Mary had to admire the bravery of his little speech. If only he _could_ help her...

"I...can't." she groaned desperately. Her eyes turned back up to the branches and leaves far above their heads. She remembered how she used to play in the woods around Downton when she was a child. Edith and Patrick running after her, and tiny Sybil waddling behind, crying because she could not keep up with them. _Sybil..._

"You were right, you know..." Mary gasped, bending over in agony. How long would she be able to stand this? Matthew bit his fist, a whimper escaped him despite his best efforts at keeping up a brave facade. "With what?" He wiped her face again, then leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"We're cursed...you and I." Mary lamented, a frown creasing her beautiful brow. When she next looked at Matthew, she almost shrank back. He was livid.

"What a stupid thing to say! What nonesense!" he barked, nearly crushing her fingers in his, if she wasn't gripping twice as hard. Mary laughed and the sound rang through the clearing like the chime of a bell.

"You said it first...I'm just repeating the nonesense you came up with." she smirked at him through her tears.

"Well, I was an idiot! And since when do you even listen to me? You never do!" Matthew grumbled and quickly wiped the tears off her cheeks. If he saw more of them, he'd be done.

So he looked away for a moment and scanned the forest for any signs of the search party. Shouldn't they be here by now? It had taken him less than half and hour to find Mary, so what on on earth were they doing dawdling around like this? Having a lovely picnic on the way?

And what if they didn't find them...or came too late...what if Mary was right and the baby would come before they were rescued?

Matthew closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He could taste bile in his throat. If he didn't keep his head now, he'd be no use to Mary whatsoever. And she needed him..._they_ needed him now.

He turned towards his wife, who had gone dangerously pale. "Listen now, my love. They won't find us in time. But I know what to do...or I think I know what to do." Matthew said with more conviction than he felt.

Mary just blinked up at him, probably thinking he had gone mad at last. Matthew was not to be perturbed, however. Now he had a mission: he would save her and baby, come what may.

Grabbing her discarded Ladies' handbag, he pulled it open and rummaged through it. Mary watched him warily from the side. What on earth was he doing? And then she saw it and her eyes filled up.

"How...but..." she choked, her fingers reaching out for the small item Matthew had unearthed. With a tremulous smile, he placed it in her hand. "I smuggled him into your handbag before we left...to keep you safe...just in case, you know." he admitted a little sheepishly.

Mary squeezed the little toy dog in her fist and he could read the gratitude in her eyes.

Next, Matthew took the flask he had brought for those useless two hours of deer stalking and hurried to the stream to fill it up with fresh water.

"Here, drink." he ordered, "All of it, Mary. You'll need it to get your strength back and you're sweating so much..." She swatted him hard in the chest at that last comment.

"A Lady...doesn't...sweat." Mary huffed indignantly, though she had to admit that she was certainly looking less and less ladylike as the day waned. The water felt delicious going down her dry throat and she used the rest of it to wash her hands and face.

"Sweating...huh...coming from you...our third day in Cannes and you had no clean shirts left." she muttered, gazing up at him haughtily. Matthew smiled. She was more alert now. Teasing him already. Instead of a retort, he bent down and pressed his lips briefly on hers. "I love you." he whispered.

Mary was appeased and watched with mounting confusion as Matthew began to take his clothes off. This was hardly the place and most certainly not the time for any of _that!_ "What are you..."

"We need to make a...a...landing place. For lack of a better word." he explained as he took off his tweed jacket, vest and shirt. "Where's your coat?" But Mary didn't hear him, having just been seized by a particularly long contraction.

Matthew pressed his lips together. He closed his eyes again and racked his brain for more information. Hell, he'd spent the past half year reading more books on pregnancy than he'd probably read law books in his entire life. He knew that any doctor would now check how far along she was...down there.

That in itself shouldn't pose a problem, he knew the place well enough...

"Matthew! Stop that! Oh, for God's sake!" Mary snapped, kicking him away violently as he tried to crawl under her skirt. "Ow!" he whined and rubbed his shoulder where her delicate foot had planted itself rather roughly.

"I need to check if it's coming, Mary!"

"Don't be stupid! You're not a doctor, you've got no business down there..." When she saw the hurt look in his eyes, her attitude softened and held out her arms for him. "...not now anyways. And if you're so keen to 'check' on something, why don't you go to the path and see where Papa and the others are hiding?"

"No." he refused flatout. "I'm not leaving you alone. And please, you have to let me _do_ something!" Mary could tell that he was adamant and for some reason, his stubborness reassured her. She had always seen herself as the stronger person in their relationship, but that did not mean Matthew was weak or that he could not be strong for her. He had been often enough in the past and she knew he was doing his very best to be strong for her now...

Mary had not much time to reflect on these developments, as the labour pains increased so rapidly that she could barely catch her breath. Gripping his fingers and the toy dog in each hand, she cried out her pain as the contractions shook her to the core. This it it, she thought. Now, she'd have to push…but again, she could not muster the strength.

Matthew held her, his arm around her shoulder to help her sit up, but it was uncomfortable and she sank back against him. "I'm...it's not working." she gasped miserably and gazed up at him. She could see the terror in his light blue eyes and she wanted to tell him that she was sorry. But even that was an effort.

When Matthew panicked, his mind usually experienced some sort of overload from the myriad of thoughts that whirled around until he was entirely unable to make the right decision for fear of making the wrong one...

Unless he thought of Mary first...and right now, there was nothing else in this world but his wife, who was laying limply in his arms, too exhausted to go on.

So he closed his eyes once more and simply concentrated on the first idea that would come to his brain. Some plan...something...anything that he could do to help her, to save her, to make her live through this.

Because she had to. She simply had to...

Matthew's eyes popped open. "Mary. Get up."

For one wild moment, Mary thought she was dreaming. His voice sounded so distant and she was so sleepy. She could have dropped off into a wonderful slumber here and now...if her husband hadn't hoisted her up by grabbing under her arms. She couldn't even protest in her dazed state.

Without a second to spare, Matthew pulled her up into a kneeling postion. He grabbed the water bottle and pushed it on her, slopping most of it over her face rather than in her mouth. It had the intended effect, however. Mary woke up.

"But...this is..." she choked, her words got swallowed by yet another onslaught of pain. "You have to squat, Mary. It'll make it easier." She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Still, Mary had to admit that this position _did _relieve some of the pressure on her pelvis and it did make it a whole lot easier to push.

"My darling, you need to push now. Do you hear me? Don't be afraid, I'll hold you up. I won't let you fall." Matthew said fiercely, his mouth close to her ear. Mary only nodded and did as he said.

He was half standing and slightly bent over with his arms wrapped tightly around her torso to keep her in a crouching position. Matthew grit his teeth. Holding her like this was torment on his lower back. He could feel it twinging and he knew that he would pay for this later on. But he didn't care.

Nothing mattered except Mary and their child...

Mary couldn't believe how quickly things went from there. Her hand reached under her skirt as she pushed hard, her breath was coming in short puffs. "Very good, my darling. You're doing wonderfully. Just a bit more, Mary, please...a little bit more, my love." Matthew's voice caressed her cheek and she could feel his own ragged breath cool against her wet skin.

"I can feel the head..." she cried and quickly pulled her hand away. Looking down, she suddenly understood what Matthew had meant by constructing a 'landing place'. Their piled up clothes were right underneath her, so that there was no danger of the baby falling.

Matthew was reduced to tears at this point. He gripped Mary so tightly that he was sure he would leave bruises, but she held onto his arms just as tenaciously. On impulse he had to kiss her cheek.

Mary whimpered, pushing with all her might, one last time.

She leaned forwards and her hands swiftly caught the tiny creature, smeared and sodden, bawling loudly into the silence of the forest with a strong and clear voice. Mary clutched him against her chest as she and Matthew collapsed like a house of cards.

Matthew held her as close as she held their child. "Matthew...Matthew_ look_!" Mary cried unabashedly. She had never seen anything so incredibly beautiful in her whole life. As she glanced over her shoulder she saw Matthew in tears as well.

"Oh God..." he exclaimed, his hand going out for the writhing little thing nestled against Mary's chest. His fingers trembled as he touched one tiny foot. "It's a boy." Mary whispered after a closer inspection. It didn't really matter to her, she would have felt just as much love for a little girl, but she couldn't help being a little bit pleased and proud that she and Matthew had produced an heir.

"He's...perfect." Matthew whispered reverently. "Just like you." he gazed at his wife with even more love and admiration than he'd shown before. Mary's eyes were still glued to the tiny miracle in her arms when Matthew pressed a fierce kiss to her cheek, his lips seeking her mouth. Mary turned and laughed giddily into his kiss.

"I love you so much, my darling...I fall more in love with you every day that passes." he whispered as he lovingly rubbed the tip of his nose against hers.

The moment was almost too much to bear. "I'll remind you of that next time I scratch the car." she joked weakly in a bid to stem the uncharacteristic flow of tears. "I give you full permission." Matthew laughed happily and in that instant his red glowing face resembled that of the fat little baby boy in Isobel's photograph so much that she had to laugh as well.

And oh, how much she loved him in that moment. How lucky she was to have this man, who had given her this beautiful child and helped her carry it out, all the way. For half a year she had complained and whined about Matthew's antics, about is constant meddling and fussing...

"I love you." she whispered against his cheek, so quietly that one could easily have overheard it.

Matthew didn't. His ears had greedily sucked in every word. She could see him struggling to maintain some semblance of composure. His chin was warbling. Before he embarrassed himself completely, Matthew kissed her again, so deeply that only the high-pitched wail of their newly born son could break them up.

"Is he alright?" the anxious father wondered, and Mary could see the old Matthew was returning with a vengeance. Instinctively, Mary pressed the baby against her breast and indeed, his tiny mouth immediately sought purchase there, though he was hindered by the cloth of her blouse, which he was less than gracious about.

"He's hungry, I think." Mary remarked and then her eyes dropped to the rather unappetising sight of the chord that still connected the baby with her insides. Matthew's eyes followed hers and he quickly pulled out his pocket knife. Thank heavens he'd not left his hunting gear in the car when dashing into the forest.

"Mary, we need to get the...err...rest of it out." he reminded her as he carefully separated mother and child with a single cut. She looked up at him, a little panicked herself now. The thought made her queasy. She knew about this. Isobel had mentioned something of an 'after-birth'.

"Here, take your son and heir and make him more presentable." She wrapped the baby in Matthew's shirt and held it out for his father's eager arms to take. For an instant, Matthew just stood and beheld their son.

_Their. Son. _

She could tell his mind had temporarily set out. The silly grin that spread over Matthew's features spoke for itself.

"Hello, little chap." he breathed, his voice quivering.

Mary knew that she would cherish this image, of her husband holding their son for the first time, forever. She would keep it in her heart and pull it out for revision and simply enjoy the pure happiness that it brought her.

"Won't he freeze...what if he catches cold?" Matthew spluttered as he took a step towards the stream. Mary fought the urge to roll her eyes. There he goes, his overactive brain had clearly taken up work again.

"You're not supposed to _dip_ him in the stream, Matthew. Just splash a little water on him and rub away the...stuff." she instructed, then quickly turned. Matthew's was still unsure when he knelt down by the water. Then again, it couldn't hurt to make him a bit wet, surely that won't do any harm.

"If you drop him, I'll strangle you." He heard Mary's voice in the distance and grinned at his son.

"She can be a bit harsh...but you know, she loves us very very much." he whispered to him as he wet his hand in the water and softly stroked it over the pudgy little limbs until they were rosy and clean.

By the time her two men returned, Mary had cleaned herself up reasonably well. "Do you have more water?" she held out her hands which were covered in dark earth. "What did you do?" Matthew wondered as he handed her the flask.

She took a hearty sip of it, then used the rest to clean her dirty fingers, so she could hold her baby again. "Nothing...just...buried something." she mumbled vaguely.

Matthew's attention, however, was quickly diverted when he saw Mary unbuttoning her blouse. His mouth dropped open at the same time as his son found what he'd been looking for. Mary frowned as she caught Matthew ogling them shamelessly.

"Darling...please go and see if you can't find a trace of the others. I don't want to stay here over night." she prodded gently.

"I'd rather stay..." he started to protest, but in reality Matthew knew they had to get out of here soon. It was getting late in the afternoon and Mary needed to see a doctor, to make sure she was truly alright.

And so he reluctantly dragged himself away from the fascinating sight of Mary nursing his son. There would certainly be more occasions to observe this phenomenon more closely...

Another hour passed, in which Matthew had run back and forth between the clearing and the road path, until at long last the roaring of approaching cars became audible.

He felt a pang of fury at their delayed appearance, but it quickly dissolved when he caught Robert's pale and peaky expression. The man looked as if he had aged ten years.

"Is she alright?" Robert hurried towards his son-in-law. Shrimpy and the other men were right behind him.

"She's fine. They_'_re fine." Matthew assured, clutching Robert's arm in support. The older man's eyes went wide. "_They_?" he gasped and for an instant Matthew wasn't sure if he should agitate him further. "Just follow me." he grinned and half pulled Robert down into the clearing.

Mary quickly made herself decent when she heard people approaching. She groaned quietly in relief.

"Ah. So we're not to be eaten by wolfs after all." she cooed at the gurgling baby, who was dozing happily, his little belly quite full for now.

"Mary! Thank heavens!" She saw her father stumbling towards them with Matthew, before he stopped short in front of her. His face crumpled with delight as he saw his daughter and grandchild alive and well.

"Oh Papa...look at him." Mary's voice wavered as she held the little chap out to her father. "A boy?" Robert nearly fell over as he took another step to take the child. Matthew frowned and steadied him. He furtively kept his hands out as the baby was put into its grandfather's arms. Just in case...

"God, he's...he's..." Robert was at a loss for words. "And how did you...Mary...it must have been _hell_! How are you now?" He addressed his daughter, inspecting her with concern.

"I'm well, Papa. Don't worry. I feel perfectly healthy." The implications of her reassurance were obvious. Robert nodded grimly, satisfied for now, though they still needed to get her to a hospital as quickly as possible.

He knelt down next to Mary and kissed her forehead. "I'm so proud of you...you know that, don't you?" Mary only smiled and nodded. She wasn't used to such effusions from her father, but the words moved her nevertheless.

"He has your eyes, Matthew." Robert noticed then, "And Mary's face, I think. Can't tell about the hair yet, it may still change."

"Is everything alright, then?" Shrimpy called over from a few feet away. He'd kept a respectable distance until he was beckoned to come closer.

"Look at that, old chap. I've got another heir." Robert announced proudly, presenting the squirming bundle as if he were holding the holy grail.

Matthew had put his tweed back on, though it was clearly ruined, and helped Mary into her coat. "Goodness, we're a mess." she observed. "Not for the first time..." he whispered back and they both snickered at the inappropriate joke even as she playfully slapped his arm. "Hush."

"Don't move, Mary dear. We'll get the men to carry you. They can build a stretcher, surely." Shrimpy admonished her as she tried to stand on shaky legs. It was true, she could not make a step, but she'd rather not have the men from the village carry her on a make-shift bed of twigs.

Before Mary could say anything further, Matthew had hooked his arm under her knees and picked her up into his arms. "Are you mad, you can't carry me! Think of your back!" she hissed disapprovingly. Matthew ignored her protest, though he instantly felt the twinges in his lower back increasing with every step he took on the uneven forest floor.

Oh yes, he'd definitely pay for that later. And it would still be be worth it.

Robert followed behind them, clutching the little bundle tightly, as he took extremely careful and measured steps all the way to the car.

He had precious cargo. Just like Matthew.

* * *

**A/N: Whew...still with me? Yes it was mad, but oh so much fun to write :) The squatting thing is true, btw. Next chapter we'll hear how Matthew got his brainwave. And baby gets named...oh, and yes, we'll make it back to Downton with EVERYONE safe and sound!** **Thanks for reading, reviews would be lovely! **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Apologies for the delay, dears! This chapter is quite long, so maybe that'll make up for the wait ;) Thanks so much for all the latest reviews, I appreciate each and everyone! You guys rock! So here's our AU happy ending, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading :) **

* * *

Downton Abbey, two days later.

Mary put the tea cup down on the bedside table, right next to an assortment of fresh fruits and pastries that Anna had brought her. She was fussing over her almost as badly as Matthew these days.

With a contented sigh, she turned towards the man next to her in bed.

Matthew was laying flat on his back with two hot water bottles stuck underneath him. Despite all her protests he had insisted on carrying Mary back to the car, then into the hospital, then back up to Duneagle. The rattling of the train back home the next day had finally confirmed what Mary had predicted. He'd strained his lower back.

In the end, Mary felt a lot more sprightly after giving birth than her poor husband did. Matthew for his part didn't seem to mind this temporary incapacitation too much. He was positively delighted to share the time of Mary's confinement in bed with her and their son. It was the sort of simple togetherness as a 'twosome' he'd always craved with Mary since they got married and moved in with the rest of the family.

Only that now they were a 'threesome'.

Mary had placed the little one face-down on Matthew's warm chest. Baby seemed to love that. The steady rise and fall paired with the strong beat of his father's heart lulled him to sleep quite nicely.

When she tore her eyes away from the adorable sight, Mary found Matthew watching her. His fingers tugged on her arm and she knew what he wanted without him having to spell it out. So she indulged him with a lingering kiss.

Soon, however, their eyes wandered down again to the miniscule person slowly bobbing up and down on Matthew's torso. His tiny fists were clenching the dark blue fabric of his father's pyjamas.

The very sight of him was still so new, so miraculous that they couldn't get enough of it.

Mary sighed again and leaned her head against Matthew's shoulder, as she let her thoughts drift back to the events of the past two days...

The search party had taken her and baby to the hospital in Duneagle village, where the doctor assured them that both mother and child were perfectly healthy. Dr. Logan had scratched his grey head when he heard about the unusual birth. After everything, there was not much to be done but to clean them up and order rest and relaxation.

Back at Duneagle Castle, chaos ensued. Rose got so excited that she knocked over a footman carrying a tray with champagne. Her mother wasn't pleased. Cora and Violet were gushing over the baby for nearly an hour, until Matthew pulled him out of their clutches and brought him upstairs to Mary. No one had seen Edith that night. She was hiding away with Michael Gregson, though all she really wanted was to see if Mary was alright and look at her little nephew.

Later that night, there was some debate about whether or not they should depart the next morning. Rose bobbed up and down, begging for them to stay so she could spend more time with the 'wee thing'. The Flintshire's of course insisted that the family was welcome at Duneagle for as long as it took Mary to recover.

Matthew was relieved, as were Robert and Cora, but Mary would have none of it. "I'm quite well." she assured them. "Sitting around in a train compartment won't kill me." she had blurted unthinkingly and quickly regretted her choice of words when she saw her mother's face turn ashen.

"My darling, we mustn't take any risks. This had been traumatic enough." Matthew told her as he put the baby back into Mary's arms. "I'm sure it was for you." she smirked, then took his hand in hers. "Thank you for what you did, Matthew."

He smiled at her bashfully, though she could tell he was rather proud of himself as well as her. "I could never thank you enough for this." he carefully stroked a hand over the small head of their sleeping son. All clean and dry, they could see that the copious amount of fine hair that crowned him was indeed blonde. He was a miniature Matthew, just what Mary had wished for.

And so they had spend their last night in Scotland curled up together in their guest bed. Mary of course fell asleep swiftly from sheer exhaustion, but Matthew stayed up, anxiously watching over his wife until the sun rose. Sybil had also seemed fine at first...and then...

Later on the train, it had become evident that Matthew had strained his back badly. He was hobbling, half bent over. Mary couldn't help but whisper "Hunchback of Notre Dame." to baby whenever she saw his father approach. More than anything she was simply furious that Matthew kept making light of it, though she could plainly see the agonized expression he tried to conceal. "It's nothing." he repeated at least fifteen times to various people until they pulled into Downton station, by which time he had to be helped out of the compartment by Robert.

Doctor Clarkson was ordered to Downton immediately and prescribed bed rest for both husband and wife. "Just like our honeymoon." Matthew had grinned and quirked a flirtatious eyebrow at Mary. "Hardly." she had sniffed, but offered him a kiss nonetheless.

So in the end, the new parents happily resigned themselves to spending the next week in bed.

A day before their arrival, Robert made a telephone call to Downton, reporting the good news to the staff. Mrs. Hughes had to pour Carson a generous glass of whiskey and pat his hand for half an hour until he was composed enough to let go of the telephone and rise from his chair. When he did, however, there was no stopping him. The whole house was to get a proper going over and all the staff needed to line up in the entrance hall to welcome the family. "Don't you think this is a bit ridiculous?" Mrs. Hughed chided. "One would think we're expecting royalty."

"We're expecting the future Earl of Grantham, Mrs. Hughes. Anything _less_ would be ridiculous." Carson had replied with an air of absolute detemination. Eventually, Mrs. Hughes decided to indulge him, knowing how important this moment was for him. She suspected that deep down in his heart, Carson had just become grandfather.

And indeed, as soon as mother and child entered the great hall of Downton Abbey, Lady Mary made her way over to the butler, a broad smile on her face. With some trepidation, Carson had received the squirming bundle she offered him to hold. "There Carson, I told you not to fret." Mary said softly.

Carson's mouth stood open at the sight of his future Earl. "He looks like...Milady." he muttered in awe, but Mary shook her head. "Only when his eyes are closed." With some amusement she watched Carson't expression change from wonder to pride and then to concern. "And Milady is..."

"Perfectly well, Carson. Honestly. You had better worry about my husband..." Mary assured him, throwing a backward glance at Matthew, who slowly made his way over to them, wincing at every step. She was glad to see that Dr. Clarkson and Isobel were already present to attend to him.

While Mary helped getting Matthew upstairs and into bed, Mrs. Hughes cleared her throat. "Mr. Carson, I think you ought to hand the babe over now..." She whispered, nodding her head towards a beaming Tom Branson. Carson looked affronted for only a second, then released Lady Mary's son to his uncle-in-law, albeit rather grudgingly.

"What's his name?" Tom wondered, addressing Cora and Robert. "They haven't decided yet." the latter said, shaking his head a little. He was pushed aside when Isobel came bustling in, her face pink with excitement. Matthew was being taken care of upstairs, so she was finally at liberty to admire her first grandchild. Tom placed him gently in her arms. "There's your Nan." he grinned.

Unlike everyone else, except Cora, Isobel didn't even try to conceal her tears of joy. "Oh, he's simply...precious. And so much like Matthew." Isobel gently stroked a finger over the pudgy cheek. "Wait until he opens his eyes..." Cora gushed over Isobel's shoulder, her fingers already itching to hold the baby again.

Tom returned with Sybbie on his arm and pointed at the baby. "Look there, love. That's your little cousin. With him, you'll never get bored around here." he said fondly and pressed a kiss to his daughter's round cheek. Cora stared at them tearfully. "I wish Sybil was here. She would've been so terribly excited for Mary." She and Tom shared a moment of grief for the absent child.

"Where's Edith?" Isobel inquired. Cora's face fell some more. Edith had begged to go to London for a while, to stay with Rosamund. She had wanted to apologize to Mary, but Matthew was adamant that Mary needed rest. In the end they had all decided that it might be for the best to let Edith stay in the city for the time being. It was this one sad circumstance that marred their joy these days. However, Cora was as always positive that everything would be resolved eventually.

"How's Matthew?" Cora asked Isobel to deflect from the Edith situation. "Oh, he'll be as right as rain in a week or two. He needs bed rest, that's all. I still don't understand what he did to his back to get into such a state? The doctor had told him two years ago that he should mind what he's lifting." Isobel said disapprovingly. Cora smiled. Clearly, she wasn't the only mother with an unreasonable child or two.

"You must stay for dinner of course." she offered, nodding to Mrs. Hughes to pass it on to the kitchen. They would have guests tonight to celebrate their new family member, even if his parents were forced to celebrate on their own over a tray of food upstairs...

Mary sighed against Matthew's shoulder, glad to have finally found some peace and quiet with her little family. Sometime before dinner, she had asked Anna to try and get the baby. It was quite a wrestle. Anna actually needed to prise the baby out of Lord Grantham's fingers. Dr. Clarkson had to offer him a glass of whiskey as a distraction.

"Anna said Papa and Carson were parading him around to staff and guests as if he were the next heir to his Majesty's throne, rather than the son of a middle-class lawyer." Mary huffed and Matthew chuckled at the irony of it.

"Growing up, I'm sure you never imagined you'd give birth to the baby of a lowly middle-class lawyer..." he teased her and she playfully pinched him in the side. "No. I didn't." Mary had to admit after all.

"Papa and Carson are so ridiculously excited, I thought they'd start dancing a jig together." Mary snorted delicately at the image. Matthew glimpsed down at his son. He himself felt ready to explode with pride. "_I'm_ dancing a jig...or I would be, if I could move an inch."

Mary smiled ruefully at his discomfort, then frowned as something occured to her. "Don't be offended if they start calling him the heir now...I'm afraid some people will consider you to be merely a 'place holder' for the real thing now." She glanced up at Matthew to see his reaction and was surprised to find him looking a tad anxious.

"Am I only a 'place holder' to you?" He tried to sound light, but Mary wasn't fooled.

She reached a hand up and caressed his left ear. "To me, you are entirely irreplaceable." Mary whispered. His expression changed immediately and he pulled her in for a sound kiss. "And you are to me." Matthew said earnestly, though he couldn't surpress a satisfied grin.

Back on his shoulder, Mary pursed her lips, then smiled wickedly. "I should warn you though. Sooner or later you must get used to the idea of sharing me with another man."

As soon as the words had left her mouth, Mary felt Matthew's whole body tense and stiffen. She could even hear his heart rate pick up beneath her ear. Baby noticed the change in his sleeping accomodation as well.

"What?" he gasped, sounding strangled. His panic only lasted about three seconds, then he felt Mary's snicker reverberating against his shoulder.

"Oh, Matthew." she breathed and he spotted her hand creeping up to the 'man' who was still snoring on his chest. "That was mean." Matthew informed her, though he was laughing with relief. "Cruel, cruel woman." he scolded until she kissed his irritation away.

Mary's fingers alternately caressed Matthew's arm and the wee little fist of the baby. Suddenly, his miniscule digits opened and he grasped his mother's finger with surprising strength. She smiled.

"Why do you suppose he wanted to be born at that very moment?" Matthew mumbled after a while. "I don't know..." Mary shrugged, "Coincidence, I suppose."

Matthew thought about that. "I'm not sure. He could have come a day later, or half a day even...and everything might have been different." He shook his head slightly on the pillow.

Mary frowned. "Yes..I might have had him on the train between Duneagle and Downton. Now that would have been great fun. With an audience of train passengers." Matthew chuckled at her forbidding tone.

"Or we could have been here or in the hospital and I'd have driven everyone mad because there'd be nothing to do but drink entire decanters of brandy to calm my nerves. In the end they'd have found me under the table..."

They laughed, clinging tighter to each other. The very idea that something might have occured, the slightest alteration, that could have made this moment, anything other than what it was now, felt disconcerting to them.

"I'm so lucky to have you." Matthew mumbled, rubbing his nose in Mary's fragrant hair. "Me too." She didn't know why she suddenly had tears in her eyes, but she hoped he wouldn't notice.

Baby moved a little on his perch. Matthew's talking and laughing must have disturbed him.

"Look at those fat little arms and legs." Mary exclaimed suddenly, her voice almost unfamiliar with rapture. She leaned up and kissed one pudgy baby cheek. Matthew watched them besottedly. Had there ever been anything more beautiful on this earth? He doubted it.

"Matthew?" She sounded tense all of a sudden and he got slightly worried. The scare of a Sybil-like turn was still upon him. "Yes? What is it?"

"How did you know?" Mary eyed him quizzically. He was confused. Know what?

"When you said you'd know how to deliver the baby...and that I should be...squatting. How did you know these things?" She had not given it much thought in the past days, too preoccupied with their son and Matthew's back condition. To her surprise, Matthew blushed. "I've...read a book." he admitted reluctantly. Mary rolled her eyes.

"Goodness...please tell me it wasn't in 'Expert advice for expecting mothers'" she scoffed while her hand sneaked up to fiddle with a strand of Matthew's golden hair. "No no...that one was useless. You were perfectly right to do what you did with it!" Matthew said languidly, enjoying her ministrations.

"Then what was it?"

He wished he could sit up properly, but that was out of the question. Matthew sighed. "I didn't tell you about this...because you were so against me reading those medical books." He paused, gauging her reaction.

"I wasn't against you reading them _per se_...but you kept chasing me with them and you read out those unsavoury chapters that I really didn't need to hear about." she clarified, scratching his scalp with her fingers.

For a moment, Matthew simply closed his eyes and purred happily. "Matthew...the book...what was it?" She stopped scratching and nudged him. The movement caused baby to squirm a little.

"Well, the day I was summoned to see Mother...when she berated me about 'smothering' you. Thank you for tattling, by the way." Matthew accused in mock offence. "I spent a while looking through the books in my old study and I found..." his eyes dropped to his son's blonde head.

"...my father's old notebooks."

"Oh." Mary didn't know what to say. "Yes, I...I never read them before. But you know, he was actually an expert in children's medicine. He'd written a lot of papers about it. And..." Matthew paused and took a deep breath.

Mary quickly took up stroking his hair again and he smiled gratefully. "There were entries about the different practices of giving birth. Laying on your back is not the ideal, he wrote. It makes things easier for the doctor, but not the woman..."

"Oh." Mary repeated. "And he wrote that the best position, though not accepted and therefore not practiced in the western world, is kneeling or squatting. I'd read it and dismissed it really. And then it just came to me when we were there and...I never imagined you to do that. I mean, I didn't imagine you'd need to..." he was rambling a little. Mary's fingers ghosted over his lips, so tenderly that he kissed each tip in turn.

"So I have to thank your father in the end." she determined.

Matthew smiled and shrugged slightly. "_We_ have to thank him." he corrected her, lifting his arms with some effort to pull Mary closer, while he tangled their legs together under the covers.

"Am I still your hero...even if it wasn't my own idea?" he asked softly, his expression sliding into a boyish pout. Mary laughed quietly and nodded.

"Always." she whispered and rewarded him with a long and thorough kiss. "And how heroically I carried you everywhere...remember that?" he grinned proudly at her.

Mary cocked her head to the side, one delicate eyebrow raised. "Oh sure...and how heroically you were hobbling around afterwards, my darling, I remember that, too. " she remarked drily, then squealed as Matthew's fingers came to tickle her side mercilessly.

"Shhh...you'll wake the pup." he laughed, his eyes shining with adoration at the sight of Mary's helpless giggles. She was more lovely, more bewitching to him than ever. His heart beat thickly with longing.

"Remember how I carried you up to bed on our wedding night..." he recalled, sounding quite hoarse all of a sudden. Mary's smile turned minx-like. "Of course." she purred, eliciting a groan of desire and frustration from Matthew given their temporary invalidity. Spread-eagled in bed, but barely able to move and touch his beautiful wife was not quite the fun he had previously envisaged for this week...

The low rumbling sounds emanating from Matthew finally woke the sleeping 'pup' on his chest, who swiftly lodged a complaint by bawling angrily at the disturbance. "Ohh dear...come here, my darling." Mary quickly cradled her crying son against her chest and sat up to rock him gently in her arms.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matthew struggling and failing to get a better glimpse when she pulled the front of her gown down. "Don't _strain_ yourself." Mary warned and was rewarded with a scowl.

"I hate my back." she heard him grumbled as he finally gave up his peeking pursuits. "How is he? Is he alright?" Matthew worried after a beat.

"Oh, yes. He's quite jolly again. Aren't you, Reggie?" Mary cooed and cuddled the gurgling baby with unabashed love. Matthew's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "What?"

"I said, he's quite happy again." Mary turned towards her bewildered husband.

"No...what...what did you call him?" Matthew stuttered. He knew what he had heard, but he dared not to believe it. Mary's lips curled into an enigmatic little smile. It gladdened her to see that she was as unpredictable to him as ever.

"Reggie." she repeated and the name already felt natural to her. Matthew's jaw dropped. "But...you didn't want to call him...I thought..."

It was true. Whenever the topic of baby names came up, they had not seen eye to eye. After a lot of discussion, it was settled that Matthew would choose the name for a girl, and Mary for a boy. So Matthew's choice had fallen on 'Elizabeth', after his maternal grandmother, whereas Mary had picked the name 'Henry'.

Mary knew that Matthew secretly would have liked to call his son after his father, but for some reason he had never pressed the matter. And then Granny had made her promise to name the baby 'Henry', after the late Lord Grantham, Robert's father.

All told, Mary had also preferred the timeless ring of 'Henry' to the more serious sound of 'Reginald'.

Until now, that is.

"Mary..." Matthew breathed but said nothing further. Five minutes later, she had effectively put Reggie back to sleep and gently placed him back on his father's belly. Matthew was still watching her. "Why?" he finally whispered.

She pursed her lips in contemplation. "Because...your father helped him into this world and he helped me...indirectly...and he deserves to be remembered, not just for that."

Matthew was silent again as he considered this and Mary could see that he was too moved to speak. His hand sought hers and he interlaced their fingers tightly. She waited.

"You didn't like the name..." he finally argued, though it sounded weak. Still, he needed to make sure that Mary was truly pleased with the decision. "To be honest, darling, I didn't like the name 'Matthew' very much when I first heard it." Mary teased him. Miffed silence greeted her.

"The point is, things change. I love saying your name _now_...as you might have noticed..." There was a seductive lilt to her voice that quickly did away with Matthew's huffiness. He tugged at her again so she would lean down and offer up her lips as compensation.

"Thank you." he whispered, still touched by her words about his father. "You know I...I didn't just tell you about the notebook so that you would do this." he clarified and she shushed him with another kiss. "I know, Matthew."

He nodded dumbly, wondering again what he did to deserve this woman, who understood what he needed better than he did himself.

Mary replaced her head on his chest and together they watched Reggie, his wee hand still cleaving to Matthew's pyjamas, as if he wanted to make sure his Papa stayed well put. Occasionally, one of his feet would twitch and Mary moved to straighten the tiny sock on it, just to make sure it was still in place. Matthew's finger's were in her hair, stroking languidly through the long silky tresses.

"Alright." he sighed.

Mary turned to look at him. "Alright what?"

"You can cut it off, if you _have_ to." He said and rolled his eyes, smirking at the same time. "Just promise you'll let it grow again one day?"

"My hair?" Mary gasped. Of all the concessions she would have expected Matthew to make in this life time...this was the least expected one. Whenever she showed him pictures of the new bobbed styles in _Vogue_, he only grumbled and started whining that he loved her long hair.

"Just because I gave him the name you wanted?" She raised an eyebrow, not sure what to think of such an exchange of sacrifices.

"No." he replied and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. "I realized that it doesn't matter. Long hair, short hair, grey hair. I love you so much...and I will love you until I die, Mary. Anyway you are." His voice hitched a little and he blinked quickly, struggling with his own emotions.

"You'll always be _my_ Mary. And _my_ Mary is the real Mary..."

A second later, Matthew regretted having said anything at all, for her reaction was the opposite of what he had hoped to see. Instead of replying in kind and showering him with kisses, Mary pushed herself up and carefully removed Reggie from Matthew's chest to place him properly in the crib next to their bed. She tucked the blankets meticulously around the tiny body, all the while ignoring her husband.

With some effort, Matthew raised himself a little, gritting his teeth as pain shot through his lower back. "Mary...I'm sorry..." he said shakily, though he had no idea what could have possibly put her out. Before he could say anything else, Mary had turned around and wordlessly lept onto his prone body.

She kissed every inch of him with abandon. Matthew yelped, then laughed, then groaned, though he was still confused. "My darling." Mary exclaimed as she cradled his face in her hands. "Reggie is lucky to have such a wise and eloquent Papa." she concluded before raining more kisses on him.

Matthew laughed blissfully, causing her to slap a hand over his mouth. "Shhh..." She replaced her hand with her lips then and for a few minutes there was no sound except for the tiniest pips Reggie made in his sleep and the soft sighs coming from his love-drunken parents.

"I wish...we could..." Matthew whispered heatedly and his wife nodded. "I know...me too." With a sigh of regret, Mary moved a little off him, snuggling into his side instead. Matthew's arms held her tightly against him. "Stupid back." he cursed, then licked his lips, enjoying Mary's taste on them.

Mary was in recovery herself, but from what Clarkson mentioned earlier, she might be quicker on her feet than her poor husband. His back wasn't badly injured, just terribly strained. With rest and care, they would both be fit in a week or two. "I'm sorry, my darling." she muttered, her fingers playing with the buttons on his pyjamas. "Whatever for?" he tried to glance down at her.

"You must hate laying here like this...after..." she couldn't bring herself to say it. Matthew understood nevertheless. To her surprise he smiled. "One would think so." he said softly. "I'd spent so much time confined to a bed...but never like this." She could feel his arms tightening around her once more.

For a moment, Matthew allowed himself to think back to that woeful time. The days and weeks he had spent in a hospital bed, completely motionless, utterly hopeless. His only joy had been Mary's presence, though he could never fully acknowledge or enjoy it. Too painful was the awareness that their time together was transitory. An illusion.

She had belonged to another and he had been nothing but a wreck...

All those lonely nights in his small convalescent room in Downton, tucked into his narrow bed downstairs, while Mary was up here. It had been heaven and hell at the same time to spend his days in her company. To see her face, her form, her every movement and to hear her clear voice as she spoke to him, even when he was too bitter to make much conversation...

It had been his guilty pleasure to enjoy her presence near him, her very existence. But then he would end up alone every night and tears would come to him when he so much as thought of the name Mary.

Back then, he had been convinced that he must never tell her how much he still loved her, because it wouldn't fair on her...she had a real life to look forward to, a happy one without a cripple to interfere with it.

Yes, he'd spent quite a lot of nights laid out in the darkness like a corpse, wishing he was dead.

If only his old bitter self could see him now. Laying in bed with a loving Mary in his arms and their child next to them.

"Matthew?" Mary stared at him worriedly, watching with unease how he blinked furiously up at the ceiling. His lips were pulled down slightly. She instantly regretted bringing up the subject of his paralysis. How stupid of her. Why on earth would he want to think of that now?

"Are you alright, my darling?" Mary didn't know what to do, so she just nudged his chin with her nose a little. Matthew laughed shakily and his eyes quickly found her face.

"I feel..." he burst out, "...I feel as if I swallowed a box of fire crackers."

Mary would have shushed him because of Reggie, but she was so touched by his joy that she could only laugh weakly and kiss him into silence. "You've made me very happy, too." she whispered, using a simpler phrase for Matthew's eloquent metaphor. "Good." he whispered.

For a few minutes, they just gazed at each other. No words were needed. Mary buried her face against his neck, inhaling the scent of happiness. Her arms clung to him in a sudden bout of panic, though she wasn't quite sure why she felt this way at that moment.

The war was long over, he was in no danger, but in that instant Mary resolved that she would protect her husband as fiercely as she had vowed to protect their son from now on. And suddenly she knew that she could bear to lose everything else: Downton, the money, the countess' coronet...

Everything...except the two men who had become her entire world. And she would brave any storm to make sure they would always end up safe in her arms.

"Mary?" Matthew whispered. She had thought he'd drifted off already. "Yes?"

"Will you still love me when I'm old and my back will probably be crooked like this most of the time and I'll be hobbling next to you like the Hunchback of Notre Dame...I did hear you on the train, you know..." he pulled a face and chuckled mirthlessly. Mary bit her lip.

"Darling, you know I hate to be predictable." she reminded him, trying to sound blasé. He was silent and she grinned into his neck, then pressed her lips against it.

"But since you ask so nicely...I'm afraid I will love my Matthew even more then...because _my_ Matthew is the real Matthew. Hobbling or not."

_FIN_

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**A/N: If you've survived the fluff overdose, congratulations :) I had to incapacitate Matthew so he wouldn't get into any stupid vehicles, but he seems jolly enough where he is now. I may continue with this AU universe in a sequel story, but for now, I'll get working on _These endless days_. Thanks so so much for all your support in writing this, for all the lovely reviews and favs and follows. I hope that this AU story made you at least a bit as happy as it made me (long live fanfic denial!) Thanks for reading :)**


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